The Voyages of Holmes
by PuppetAngel
Summary: Sherlock Holmes isn't exactly the ordinary teenager and isn't super popular in school. When he gets sick and tired of the normal routine of getting up, going to school, getting bullied, then going home; he decides to make a large decision and change in his life and chase a dream hes had since he was young; to become a pirate.
1. Chapter 1

"Hey, freak!" A strong shove sent the tall boy into the locker. He didn't bother replying, stabling himself and fixing his coat, idiots. Thought they were the coolest things on the planet, like they were all that. Once they got out of this hellhole, which seemed to be their domain, they were fucked.

High school, definitely his least favorite thing. He wanted out of here. Had since the first day he got in here. The people, for one, were complete and utter idiots. The teachers taught the same thing day after day for weeks. He learned it within the first day, why did they keep repeating it? It was just wasting time. The students were stupid too, always making these comments, thinking they're so funny and cool.

He wasn't fond of the way he was treated either. So what, he was smart? Yeah, he was a genius. He should be respected for that, not belittled and called all these things. He was cooler than the people here, he was super smart! And the things they called him, he could ignore some of them, some were really just ridiculous. But that one word they just loved to use. Freak.

That word made him just want to cringe. Oh, he couldn't stand that word nowadays. He didn't show that it bothered him, of course. He didn't show that anything they said bothered him. Diary of a Depressed High School Genius.

He continued on down the hall and stepped outside, cool air with a rainy smell hitting him. He was a Sophomore, and hated every bit of it. He was done with it though, he was sick and tired of all this. No, he wasn't going to go home and kill himself, he had a much better plan. A cooler plan.

See, he'd always had this aspiration, this one job he always wanted. You could call it a 'dream job' but he didn't like that phrase. It wouldn't be a dream for much longer. Plus, he hardly dreamed of it, he just thought about it.

Since he was a kid, he'd wanted to be a pirate. Yes, those guys that live in the see and all. That's what he wanted to be. And to hell if he wasn't about to be. He was done wit school, he was sick of the people, including his brother. That was who he lived with.

His brother was an asshole, to start off. He didn't care. Mycroft didn't care what he did, so long as he didn't get in his brothers way with things. He would get paid to go in his room and shut it for a night. Seriously, Mycroft didn't care. And he didn't care about Mycroft. So, off with this, he was going on an adventure. His own little voyage. And he knew the moment he passed by the docks on his walk home that he had just what he needed to achieve this.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock stepped onto the cool sand, the sun having set by now on the beach. He was ready. He'd hurried all the way back to his house, practically tossed his bag down the moment he got up to the room, flying up the neat, white staircase of his house. Everything was polished and cleaned, all perfectly in place, he hated it. Try making something homey. Or, cough cough, his bad. Holmey. Really, the only place he mildly liked, or just didn't hate, was his room. Mycroft was always snapping at him to clean it up, at least it felt a tiny bit like home, maybe a little remotely like it. Not that he understood or cared.

He'd made a whole plan as he'd begun packing his bag to leave, stuffing all his clothes in one of those duffel bags you use for sleepovers. He threw the simple things in, clothes, toothbrush, screw a comb, some tea for good measure. That was about it, he didn't really need much else.

After the rush of that, he'd zipped his bag shut and hurried out. He wasn't worried about his brother getting home or anything, he had a job that worked late, to about ten or eleven. So, that wasn't any sort of problem. He was worried about the boat leaving.

Which was utterly stupid due to the fact that they were completely docked which meant they were probably staying here for a good few hours but, nonetheless, something could always happen. Logics said the boat would stay but logics also said something bad could happen and it could leave. So, he was going to play it safe.

Now, walking across the soft sand of the beach, the stars shining overhead, he could make out the large ship that was docked on the port. He couldn't wait. He was going to be the best pirate ever, he'd be smart and find all the treasure him and his crew would look for. He had no doubts about that. It'd be the best times of his life. Screw school, screw London; this is where his life began.

Sherlock hurried across the sand, running onto the dock and hurrying down it, casting wary looks around as he did so. He didn't want to get caught, after all. He made his way down the dock, the small breeze, the sound of waves crashing onto the shore, and the clatter of his shoes on the wood being the only sounds he heard around him.

Though he paid it no mind, he was too excited to really focus on being super scared. He was going on this magnificent adventure, he was going to be a pirate, just like he wanted! That was something to celebrate for sure.

The lanky teenager paused at the edge of the dark, looking up at the massive ship. It was a nice ship, wooden and sturdy. The wood was a dark ebony color, very pretty on the ship. Its masts rose high up and held the boat, sails not up, they were probably pulled down to anchor the ship to the dock better.

He grinned, it was gorgeous. Hurrying to the edge, he scanned around, wondering how he was going to get in. Er... There! He saw a small hanging net and backed up a bit, he'd just have to climb up it. It wasn't directly in front of the dock so he'd have to make quite the jump to get to it though that was no issue for him.

Stopping a few feet back on the dock, Sherlock ran forward to build up momentum, jumping at the net, the hard wood of the creaky dock lost under his feet. He grabbed at the net, hand slipping on it and he scrabbled uselessly, managing to finally get a hold and stop himself from falling. Bag on his shoulder, he took a few breaths then began to climb up the wobbly thing, he didn't have time to catch his breath, he had to hurry it up just in case.

Climbing all the way up the net, he fell onto the hard deck, sitting up and looking around. Oh wow... This looked even more gorgeous when he was on it. He'd thought it looked nice in pictures, staring at it from afar was quite the sight to see too; but when you were on the deck, looking up at the large pillars and masts, staring out at the ocean and feeling so strong and stable on with the rocking of the waves shoving up against the large ship, now that was a feeling to die for.

He was in awe of everything, looking around and feeling so proud to have made it, so triumphant that he'd found his way aboard this beauty. His triumph quickly vanished, however, when he heard laughing and talking, coming down the beach. He froze and ducked down, peeking over and seeing people walking down the dock. Not normal people. No, he knew the moment he saw them; they were pirates.

Shit, he wasn't ready. What if they attacked him? What if they did something bad? No, no stop those thoughts. He'd be fine. The curly haired boy hurried around, glancing around frantically then spotting a door; below deck. That must be where it led! He ran over to it, slipping in and walking down the steep steps, okay, where was he?

He glanced around, he was below deck alright. Their was a long hallway and some rooms, all doors leading to different areas. Er... He hurried to the left, this was the kitchen. Uh... He went into another room, the storage room, yes! Their were bags and barrels of food all over. What now?

He hurriedly looked through the barrels, finding a near empty one. Pulling out all the food in it, which was a bunch of apples. he placed them in various areas as quickly as he could; some in other barrels, some in bags, most of which also contained apples.

Now, he should probably move the barrel to the bag so- not enough time, he heard them walking below deck. Shoving his bag into the barrel and smooshing it down, he slipped in, squeezing himself up in the cramped space, knees pressed to his chest; this was uncomfortable. He pulled the lid on top to hide himself, trying to think of a plan as he heard some pirates walking in.

They were all chattering and talking, doing pirate stuff he assumed. He was wrapped up in a cold blanket of fear, yes, he wanted to be a pirate. But no, he didn't want this. He knew they'd probably kill him immediately. He was done for if they found him. He had to be careful with this, really careful. But... How did he get out of this situation? How did he get the pirates to like him and let him join the crew? How did he become a pirate? What did he do if they found him right now? He heard pirate step into the storage room, shuffling around and opening various bags and barrels, slowly moving closer to his. He did his best to prepare himself for the oncoming storm, though how could you really when you're cramped in a barrel? The feet moved steadily closer to him and he swore their hand was reaching for the lid of the barrel he was in. He shut his eyes tight, oh no.


	3. Chapter 3

Sherlock backed up cautiously, glancing around the circle of pirates with a wide set of light blue eyes. "What should we do with em'?" One pirate asked with a chuckle filled with malice, staring at him with a grin that he wouldn't exactly say had the purest form of joy.

"Maybe we should skewer him and have him for supper!" Another laughed.

"You kidding, hes all skin and bone! Might as well drop the dead weight!" A third joined in. He wasn't sure what to do as of the very moment but he was thinking as fast as he could of something. Though, he couldn't help but wonder: they really weren't that smart, were they?

Now, he was sure they weren't complete idiots. Actually, the probably were but he'd give them a sliver of faith. Okay, screw that. He only wasn't spitting it at them due to his current situation. He was... How did he put it lightly? … Fucked. He was oh so very fucked. Without even being a pirate first.

See, finding a random guy in your barrel really wasn't the nicest greeting to be given. The boat had started moving soon as they got back on their ship, most of the pirates down below deck to eat but some piloting the boat.

Now, they were sailing off, and the pirates who had been eating and found him in the barrel, obviously unhappy, had dragged him up above deck; taking his bag for themselves, no, that was his stuff! Not that he said that, right now he was focusing on himself.

"We should punish him, he snuck onto our ship!" He got snapped out of his thoughts by another voice rising up. There were twenty to thirty pirates here, he'd count them when he had a moment. But he was a little busy right now.

"Don't forget, he's just a kid." One of the pirates added, stepping forward so they'd listen to her for a moment. Hey, he was not just a kid! He was fifteen, thank you very much, a sophomore too; that was not a kid. And even if some people were still like kids at that age, he wasn't!

"Shut up, bitch." One of the first pirates said, shoving her back. Wow, no respect for women. When he became captain, and he would, that would be the first thing to be fixed. Their was some sick laughter rising up from the crew though it got hushed down as someone stepped out and he looked up, apparently the captain. Long brown beard, green eyes. He'd sort of let himself go there, huh? Being captain didn't mean you lazed about and let everyone else do the work. He was not liking the looks of this so far. But then again... What had he expected? Apparently a lot more decency from them.

"Where'd you find em'?" The captain asked, looking me up and down as if I were some sort of meek prey to him.

"He be in one of the barrels, cap'n, hiding away, he was!" A pirate swiftly reported, stepping forward to do so then back again after he'd finished speaking.

The captain nodded and began circling the tall teenager, not a kid, reminding everyone mentally, seeming to size him up as if to see what punishment he was in for and what they should do with him. Or what good role he could play on the ship, of course Sherlock knew believing in that was bullshit but trying for a few seconds was fun until he dispelled the stupid thought and focused on reality again.

"Hiding in a barrel, you say?" The captain asked in a low tone, sounding threatening.

"Aye, cap'n, he was!" They replied swiftly, a little less surefooted of themselves this time around. Seems like this captain had some good fear spread throughout the crewmates, he couldn't help but admire that. Getting that much respect. Oh, how much he wanted some for once.

So far, he didn't like the captain, or really any of the crew, but he had to give them one thing, he liked the respect given to the captain and was a bit jealous. He'd never admit it, but he wanted respect like that. He'd never gotten any.

"Interesting, interesting..." The captain droaned, still circling him.

"Do you have to repeat things for yourself twice so you'll understand it?" Sherlock asked sarcastically, not seeming to know his place.

"Funny," The captain said through grit teeth. "now-"

"Oh, I'm not joking." Sherlock cut him off, looking calm. "It was a serious question."

A small hush came over the crew members, what, did no one talk to him like that? Better late than never then, might as well start now. The captain glared, seeming very dissatisfied. "Make him walk the plank, cap'n!" One voted aloud.

"He be deservin' worse than that, mate, cut his fingers off!" Another one threw in.

"Silence!" The captain yelled at them all, making them step back. "I've got a better idea." He glared. "Get him a cutlass. You words are sharp boy, they as sharp as your blade?"

"Sharper." Sherlock replied, not surprised. "So, I have to fight you now." It wasn't a question. He took the cutlass handed to him.

"Fight me." The captain said, taking a menacing step towards the thinner, much younger teen.


End file.
